


belonging

by Alienu



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Crying, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mild Fluff, Panic Attacks, not really much to tag here ngl, not the sex part, they literally sleep, together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alienu/pseuds/Alienu
Summary: George is the one thing that Dream has yet to destroy.It’s only a matter of time until he does.Panic attacks really suck, don’t they?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 352
Collections: MCYT





	belonging

It probably says a lot about Dream when the thing that grounds him, in the midst of the panicked sea of thoughts and breathless gasps that are shaking through his body, is George.

Of course.

  
It’s always George, isn’t it?

He smells his scent — warm vanilla and mint — seconds before the door to his room opens. Then there are gentle hands slipping into his, smoothing over the rough calluses on his palms, which are red with scarlet blood that won’t disappear no matter how hard he rubs at it, and their fingers are twining together. Dream sobs, biting so hard on his lip that he tastes metal, and lets George pull him closer, close so that he can hear the gentle thumping of the latter’s heart against his chest, a surefire sign that he’s alive and here and _real._ Untouched. Undamaged.

George is the one thing that Dream has yet to destroy. It’s only a matter of time until he does. It’s only a matter of time till George leaves too, with Sapnap, and Dream has nothing but his own traitorous thoughts to keep him company. 

For now, though, he can do nothing but accept the touches and revel in it, revel in the way George’s skin is cool on his and the way that the his voice seems to make everything else melt away — all the outside noises until it feels like it’s only them, floating in nothingness, together.

“Dream,” George says gently, voice like sweet honey in his ears. Dream shudders, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to respond. He feels like he’s drowning, drowning in panic and fear so visceral that he feels as if he can almost taste it, his body refusing to listen to him even when he wants so badly to be _okay,_ to be confident and cheerful and flirtatious like he always is. “Dream,” George says again, pulling him closer, and then there are gentle fingers threading through his hair, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” He whimpers, allows George’s thumb to swipe gently over his face and collect the salty tears that have been streaking down the freckled skin. His voice comes again, quiet this time, with a concerned lilt to it. “Dream, I’m here, it’s okay. Hear my heart?” He nods, and barely manages to catch the ghost of a smile that flickers across George’s lips for a split second. 

“Okay,” George breathes, “Feel this?” Something soft brushes under his fingertips. Dream grips onto it, nodding shakily and trying desperately to slow his breaths. Vaguely, it registers that George has shoved the sleeve of his hoodie into the other’s hands, the material soft under his touch. “Focus on this, feel how it’s soft? It’s soft. Listen to my voice, Dream. You’re gonna be okay. It’s okay.”

_It’s not,_ he wants to say, gripping so hard down on the fabric that he can feel his nails digging into his palms, the pain needle-like, _it’s not going to be okay. All I do is destroy and kill and fuck things up and why areyouherestillyou’rebetteroffwithoutmepleasedon’tgoIneedyouplease-_

“I’m not leaving you,” George assures softly, and that’s all he has to say to make the tightness gripping Dream’s lungs lighten, if only slightly. “I’m not leaving, Dream. I’m here. I’ll always be here, with you. Okay? Breathe with me. C’mon. Inhale,” he inhales, slowly, and Dream does too, feeling his heart slow. George exhales after a moment of silence, slowly, and Dream does too. “Exhale. Good. You’re doing great.”

_You’re doing great,_ the words resonate in his ears, and Dream nods, the fog of irrationality that is clouding his thoughts dispersing a little. “Breathe,” he mutters, voice raspy, and inhales. George nods, doing the same, exhaling when he does and smiling when Dream closes his eyes and inhales again, clearly feeling much calmer than he had been before. It’s a few moments of this — inhaling and exhaling, but soon the panic twisting his chest has all but left, replaced with nothing but exhaustion and scraps of leftover anxiety. His eyes burn with redness from the tears that no longer flow, palms sore from how hard his nails had pressed into them earlier.

“It’s okay,” George says gently, as if knowing. Dream blinks sleepily, vision blurring, and presses himself closer to the brunet, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beating against his chest and inhaling his soothing vanilla scent. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

_Will you?_ He asks wordlessly, squeezing George closer to him. The brunet hums quietly, a song that Dream doesn’t remember the name of, and he listens quietly to the soothing sound. It’s nice, being here, with George. “Don’t leave,” he mumbles, words slurring with sleepiness as black creeps at the edges of his vision.

“I won’t,” the whispered reply comes after a short moment. “I’d never leave you.”

  
  
  
  


Dream wakes up, eyes crusty with dried tears and ears filled with the sound of George’s soft exhales. His chest rises and falls slowly, heart beating steady, and Dream shifts, feeling the hard ground under him. George’s back is pressed against the door, his arms still wrapped around the blond, their legs tangled together. Dream breathes a sigh, moving away slightly and wiping at his face. _I need a shower._

George mumbles and moves, hands reaching out to chase sleepily after the other as he moves away. He resists the urge to smile at the action, affection warming his cheeks, and leans forward, inhaling the calming scent and relishing the warmth that engulfs his body from head to toe when the brunet squeezes him close. For a moment, Dream feels the flames of fondness licking at his gut, listening to the way George slurs out a string of incoherent sentences, one that sounds like his name and others that sound suspiciously like the words ‘I love you’. 

It’s nice. This is nice, even if the events leading up to hadn’t been. Dream likes this. He likes _George,_ he likes how George can make him feel so safe and warm, loved, even despite all the things he’s done. Dream thinks he’s selfish for this, selfish for allowing George to stay here with him even if he knows the only thing he does is hurt and destroy and _ruin._ George deserves better, and somewhere deep inside him Dream thinks that the other knows this, yet he stays with him anyway. Maybe George is selfish, too. Dream doesn’t mind, instead he presses closer and presses his face into the former’s neck, allowing the exhaustion to return tenfold and not fighting the sleepiness that tugs at his core as a result.

This is selfish.

Dream wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this wasn’t as accurate as it could be i just wanted to post something lmao. comment/kudos and i’ll kiss u muah <3
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/Alienu_)


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